Play Nice

A few months ago, I participated as a playwright for Sycamore Rouge's 24-Hour Experience. The idea was that, from 8pm Friday night until the performance the following night (also at 8pm - hence 24 hours), a play would be created from the ether. Playwrights would gather, be given specific criteria (our play had to include an object, an activity and a name) and go. The plays were finished when the playwright chose. We read them aloud for each other, offering ideas and constructive criticism as needed. It was tiring, but a very rewarding and positive experience.

I thought I'd share my entry into the Experience. Comment your hearts away.

Sleighted

By Jeffrey Cole

Lights up.

“Zero” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs is playing, mid-song (about 2:40).

Legerdemain is dancing. GB is drinking at bar DL. She motions to bartender for another drink. She looks dejected. Bartender brings a martini. Tom Jones enters from house. He looks anxious, but quickly calms as he sits at bar.

TOM: May I have a vodka tonic?

He turns and ogles Legerdemain as she dances. She notices him and winks, putting on a show for him. He lays down a twenty on the bar. Bartender brings his drink.

TOM: Thank you. (to GB) Enjoying the show?

GB: (Not looking at him) The more I drink…(pause)

TOM: Right.

They drink. Legerdemain’s set ends and she exits UC.

TOM: So, what do you do?

GB: What? Are you really –

TOM: I’m just making conversation. Just trying to be nice.

GB: Keep trying.

They drink. Legerdemain comes out in street clothes, next to Tom. They smile shyly at each other. GB rolls her eyes.

TOM: Nice show.

LEGERDEMAIN: Thank you.

TOM: What do you call yourself?

LEGERDEMAIN: Legerdemain.

TOM: Beg pardon?

LEGERDEMAIN: Legerdemain. It means –

TOM: I know what it means. Interesting choice.

LEGERDEMAIN: You haven’t seen my snake trick.

TOM: (pause) Ah.

LEGERDEMAIN: Gotta pee. BRB. (Legerdemain exits SL)

GB: Did she really just tell you she’d “BRB”? Did I just hear that?

TOM: You did.

GB: I’m getting old.

TOM: Really. (They drink.) How old are –

GB: Not supposed to ask.

TOM: Violates the rules of decorum?

GB: I don’t know you.

TOM: (leaning over) Tom. Jones.

GB: You’re kidding.

TOM: Nope.

GB: GB.

TOM: GB?

GB: GB.

TOM: What’s that stand for?

GB: My first and middle names.

TOM: (pause) You know, I’m just making –

GB: It’s cool. I’m just a bitch.

TOM: I see. (They drink.)

GB: What do you do?

TOM: I rob banks.

GB: Excuse me?

TOM: Banks. I rob them.

GB: Corporate takeover.

TOM: I wear a suit and tie, yes.

(Legerdemain reenters from SL. She is very energetic now. She stands over Tom’s shoulder.)

LEGERDEMAIN: Hi!

TOM: Hello.

LEGERDEMAIN: What’s up?

TOM: I’m having a drink, chatting with –

LEGERDEMAIN: Whatcha drinking?

TOM: Vodka tonic –

LEGERDEMAIN: I LOVE vodka!

TOM: Would you like one?

GB: Are you old enough to drink?

LEGERDEMAIN: Yeah…I’m old enough.

GB: Are you still on the clock?

LEGERDEMAIN: I’m on a –

GB: Can’t drink while you’re on the clock, Miss.

TOM: Really?

GB: Yep.

LEGERDEMAIN: I get off in an hour.

TOM: Can I buy you a vodka in an hour?

LEGERDEMAIN: A martini?

TOM: Dirty?

LEGERDEMAIN: Courtney Love dirty.

TOM: Deal. I’m Tom.

LEGERDEMAIN: Hi, Tom. I’m Leger –

TOM: You told me. When do you go back on?

LEGERDEMAIN: In 2. I have to pee. See you! (She exits SL)

TOM: Ah.

GB: Wow. You’re good.

TOM: Like I said, I’m just –

GB: Being nice. Got it. (They drink.)

TOM: So…It’s Tuesday afternoon. Why are you –

GB: Because I’m a bitch. I have no one else to talk to and I like to drink in the afternoon. I like this place.

TOM: Are you mean to everybody?

GB: Not everyone. ( She examines him.) I hate your tie.

They drink. Legerdemain enters from UC as Amberlin’s "Glass to the Arson" begins. She begins to dance seductively.

GB: I like her. She’s nice. Good teeth.

TOM: I noticed. (pause) So… tell me something.

GB: I’ve just gotten into letterboxing.

TOM: Is that like kickboxing at the Y? Do you practice attacking mailmen?

GB: It’s like a treasure hunt for grown ups.

TOM: Oh. (He drinks.) So, besides being a bitch, what do –

GB: I’m junior partner at Harris and Markson.

TOM: You’re a lawyer.

GB: That’s usually what that means.

TOM: Wow, you really are –

GB: Told you. (She looks at Legerdemain, who is dancing on her own planet.)

TOM: Does anyone ever not like you?

GB: Sorry?

TOM: You’ve spent a lot of time being unlikable. Does it work?

GB: It’s been known to happen. Frequently.

TOM: Do people get angry, or do they leave you alone?

GB: They generally leave me to myself.

TOM: I hate your shoes.

GB: What?

TOM: Your shoes. They were the first thing I noticed about you.

GB: I –

TOM: They’re tacky. (He finishes his drink.)

GB: They –

TOM: Is it nice? Being so unlikable?

GB: I get by okay. (pause) You finished your drink. Would you like another?

TOM: I’ll get it, thanks. (Pause.)

GB: So, in letterbox-

TOM: Do I remotely care?

GB: I suppose not.

TOM: You know, I’ve kind of had a rough day. I was hoping for some nice conversation-

GB: I’m sorry –

TOM: But thank you for opening my eyes to the reality of things.

GB: The reality of things?

TOM: That’s right. Kindness is an illusion. Every new person we meet just hasn’t found a reason to hate us yet.

GB: I don’t hate you. I don’t even know –

TOM: And yet you still felt totally justified in –

GB: Justified is a strong word.

TOM: (pause) I’m not going to argue with a total stranger in a bar. Finish your drink.

(GB smirks and finishes her drink. She stands and moves very close to him.)

GB: Nice.

TOM: I’ve never shot a lawyer before. Please back away.

GB: Shot a lawyer?

TOM: I rob banks, Miss Junior Partner. I’m not a very nice guy.

GB: Do you carry a gun?

TOM: I do.

GB: Now?

TOM: Would you like to find out?

GB: Maybe.

(Legerdemain's song ends and she exits UC)

TOM: You’re playing a very dangerous game. I’m not really a guy you’d enjoy angry. (pause) I asked you to step away.

GB: I know –

TOM: Next time, I’ll tell you to move.

GB: Fair enough. (She moves back slightly.) Better?

TOM: Okay.

GB: Sure?

TOM: It would be really great if you would stop talking. Really.

GB: Perhaps I should leave.

TOM: It’s a free country. (She sits.) Obviously.

GB: Still want to shoot me?

TOM: Lady, I –

GB: Gladys.

TOM: Gladys, I don’t really- Gladys? Really?

GB: Really.

TOM: I could shoot you. Put you out of your misery.

GB: Others have tried.

TOM: I have pretty good aim.

GB: Look, I have to go.

TOM: Thank you.

GB: May I give you my card?

TOM: Why, so I can friend you on Facebook? You are really screwed up, lady.

GB: I’ve heard that before.

TOM: That’s a no on the card. Sorry.

GB: I’ll put it here on the bar, just in –

TOM: I’m going to take out my gun.

GB: Or not.

TOM: Have you left yet? Can’t you go be a screwed up bitch somewhere else?

(GB takes out her card, scribbles something on it and puts it on the bar.)

GB: Take a look. (She leaves.)

TOM: Jesus. (He goes to the card and looks. Reading.) Third National Bank, 17^th and Franklin. Box 347. Hand-carved stamp. (pause) What is this?

(Legerdemain enters from SL. She is slinky and seductive, but without subtlety.)

LEGERDEMAIN: Hi. Got off early. Where’s your friend?

TOM: She left.

LEGERDEMAIN: Aww. She was nice. I liked her shoes. (pause) Can I still get my Courtney Love martini?

TOM: Baby, drinks are on me for the rest of the night. (He pulls out a wad of money and lays it on the bar.) Line em up, I’ll knock em over.

LEGERDEMAIN: Wow! That’s a lot of money!

TOM: Very true.

LEGERDEMAIN: You’re a very nice guy, Tom.

TOM: Thank you. Thank you very much.

LEGERDEMAIN: You’re welcome!

TOM: It’s nice to be appreciated. (pause) Do you know anything about letterboxing?

Black.

Cool!

I just saw the coolest thing on the way home from picking up the boys.

I heard about a 10 car pile up on 95, so I took Jefferson Davis to avoid calamity. You have to drive through some pretty shady places to get to Oregon Hill/VCU area. This part of town serves as home for some of my students; I only wish them safety and security. That part of the Southside can also foster some pretty gnarly stereotypes, one of which I will happily demolish now.

Going about 35 mph, I saw a group of men clustered together in a front yard, backs to the road. They ranged in ages from teens to middle age and beyond, all black. I saw no women. They were dressed in the urban style of the day: enormous pants, sandals with white socks, sports jerseys or t-shirts. A Kangol cap or two.

What was it they were watching, I wondered? A dog fight? Arm wrestling? TV? Moments passed, as I drove by them, the boys dozing in their car seats. Suddenly, a cheer went up from all the men, and there was clapping of backs and slapping of hands. Clearly, someone had accomplished something of note.

The last glance I had before they completely passed my view was of the crowd of men, still cheering, gathered around a small table. Two men sat opposite each other, both with looks of pride and victory. Between them, on the table, was a chess board.

Made my week.

The Beginning of the End

It’s testing time in Hollis, Queens! No, I’m paraphrasing Run-DMC.

This time of year is filled with testing and testing and study guides and textbooks and attitudes and tutoring and disappointment and expectation. For me, after my testing prep has begun, it means watching The Odyssey.

It’s not a bad film, made for TV in the late 90s. It stars Armand Assante in the titular role. He looks the part, but Sean Bean in Troy is the better actor. Still, for taking up two and a half class periods at the end of the year, as preparation for the final exam, it can’t be beat.

It’s tough to believe that another school year is coming to an end. Of course, around November, it’s hard to imagine that I’ll make it to Summer. In June, however, I look back at the year that was and wonder where the time went. If taken in chunks (from holiday to holiday), the year isn’t that long.

Post Labor Day, the next school time off is in October, when the students have a day off, due to teacher development. The kids get to stay home, but the teachers are crammed into classrooms, “learning”. It’s all geared towards receiving points for recertifying our teaching license; it’s also nice to have a break from the students (and them from us).

Moving on, Thanksgiving is the next BFD, one that everyone looks forward to. In years past, I’ve hopped on a plane to Arkansas to arrive in Rodgers Thursday afternoon. The students get excited for the first time of the year, regaling each other with tales of much food they can eat, the relatives they’ll see, they parties they’ll go to and the awful things they’ll do.

Then Christmas rolls around. Boy howdy.

At present, however, I’ve got to try and have one foot in the now, with an eye on what’s coming up.

- Do I audition for this show or that one?

- If I do, will it interfere with Sarah’s plans? (That’s the subject of a future post.)

- What about the coming school year? What show(s) will be put on?

- I’m becoming increasingly interested in producing/directing. Gotta keep my ears open.

- How about money?

Questions, questions, questions. No answers as of yet.

On a side note, I’m noticing my shape the mirror lately. It’s getting rounder. If I’m going to play a role I’ll never get the chance to play again (maybe in the Winter?), I’m going to need to slim down and get into the best shape of my life. No fooling.

And life goes on.

Today, part one

I’m ignoring the stack of The Odyssey study guides I’m supposed to grade before Monday. Most of them are at least halfway graded, but I’m still putting it off. I’m determined.

Boys watched Saturday morning cartoons. When I was growing up, it was Ninja Turtles and Lazer Tag and He Man and Alvin and the Chipmunks. Afternoons were reserved for Transformers, GI Joe, Silverhawks, and Voltron. The boyos are watching Thomas the Tank Engine and Dora and Diego and Dinosaur Train. Ok, I can’t fault Dinosaur Train. Annnnd Max knows more Spanish than I do. I think Hudson knows more Spanish than I do.

Max, while on the potty, acts out his books while he “reads” them, so there’s never a lack of entertaining sounds from the bathroom.

Lots of procrastination on my part while anxiously awaiting the arrival of Oma, aka MIL, bka my wife’s mother. She is a wonderful woman, no fooling. She’s great to me and to her grandsons; she has been teaching Max a little bit of yoga every time she visits. It’s quite fun.

Of course, the impending doom of an in-law coming means cleaning.

So there’s that.

I hurriedly watered the garden and attempted a weeding; my gardening skills are lax, so I didn’t know if I was pulling up grass or weeds or an unmarked veggie, so I let it all rest. I put up some garden stakes, but I need some twine or clothesline to keep Tuckerdog from excavating, trampling, and causing a vegetable holocaust.

Hudson, diaperless, plays with trains. He’s getting a tunnel for Summer vacation. He loves his trains so.

Auditions part deux are today. Yay.

Max Eats Giraffes!

Always pull the straight parts. Never pull the loops.

This was my advice to my oldest son, Max, as he took off his robe (boys should really get dressed by at least 4:30 on a Friday) and I prepare this, my latest blogging venture.

My wife and I are very similar: people tell us we should write things down, and so we do. For maybe 2 or 3 months, and then it goes away, like dandelion seeds in the wind. She's had about 2 or 3 blogs up and running at the same time, while I putter around with one and let it drop.

Well, the gauntlet has been thrown down.

Don't expect any deep ruminations on politics, musings on art or passionate diatribes on the foundations of science. Don't expect much more than what the title of the blog is: words, words, words.

Etc.